Quandary
by Remnant Stars
Summary: AU. He was never going to see her as anything more than his friend, his colleague. But she could hope. Skye/Coulson, Daisy/Coulson. Potentially a series of one-shots about my favorite agents. Spoilers ahead. Rating is a precaution.
1. Chapter 1

**Just a random drabble with thoughts from Skye about the team, her new abilities and Coulson. Leaning heavily towards unrequited Skye/Coulson so you've been warned! The style of writing is similar to my Sousa fic, _Stars on Fire_. I like to write these, I suppose. If any AoS fans haven't seen_ Agent Carter_ they should! It was so good!**

**Potential spoilers up until 2x14 "Love in the Time of Hydra." It's my first AoS fic, sorry if anyone is OOC.**

* * *

Some part of her was broken. Fitz had explained it to her, with input from Simmons. She was different, not like Captain America or Hulk. She was changed, but whatever she was, she'd always been it. There was no super soldier serum or gamma radiation, there was only her and parents that weren't entirely human, if they were even the smallest amount. Fitz, sweet Fitz had insisted that she was still the same, that he looked at her no differently. And boy, did she want to believe him. She wanted to with every fiber of her being. But his initial reaction had betrayed him, his initial horror at the change in her. He might look at her with very similar regard, but she also knew that despite his own accident, he pitied her. Just as he hated what he'd become, lost an essential part of what made him so brilliant. She'd lost some of her exuberance, the eager part of her nature to learn anything new. Now she wished she'd never heard of aliens or Avengers.

May hid her feelings well. She remained the same, encouraging and collected until Skye almost didn't see the slight tremor of her fingers when they trained together. Completely giving away that even if May wasn't afraid, she was uncertain of how to handle her. Just when Skye had been certain that she could look for May for support, that the woman could handle anything that was thrown at her. She could, almost, just not the girl that had been thrown at her, who threatened to rock the ground under their feet whenever she felt the least bit upset. And feeling upset was an understatement at this point. She felt lost in feelings and emotions she was forced to suppress. She was cursed by her own body, unable to feel anything more than forced calm, lest she bring the roof down on their heads.

Bobbi and Mack both viewed her with a veiled suspicion, their friendly demeanor did nothing to hide the fact they'd been willing to let her go with Sif, even with Bobbi's refusal to take a side. She'd always been friendly with them, and the goodwill had been reciprocated, but they couldn't seem to handle her abilities. Not as well as Fitz. And Simmons had been warmer lately, but Skye had feared initially that she would have led the movement to put her away for good, or put her down. She hadn't wanted to believe it from her friend, but Fitz's concerns had seemed well-founded. Now their relationship was strained, but mending.

The only person Skye seemed to be able to look at without an ounce of changed emotion was Coulson. He'd been reserved lately, far too lost in his own head. She'd feared telling him the most. He'd recruited her, made her feel welcome, made her happy to be a part of something. His drive for the greater good had inspired her and she'd looked up to him almost from the moment they met. And after they'd struggled together through so much, she felt she could trust him implicitly, even when he hid things from her. She was afraid to see that disappear, to see him look at her with suspicion or revulsion. It was more than a relief when she found he was in her corner 100%, willing to fight for her and proving it more than once. He was her friend, her family, and to her rising horror, he was also the man she was starting to fall for.

The first time she'd looked on Coulson with more than affection, with a stirring of curiosity, she'd shut the thought down with shocked embarrassment. He was older than her, old enough to be her father. But she just didn't see him that way. Her feelings for Ward had been almost immediate with an awareness of an attraction to him from the moment they'd met. But with the reveal of his dual nature, and his twisted obsession with her she'd been immediately turned off of him. Maybe there were woman who found his devotion cute, or heartwarming despite his traitorous actions, _she_ found it disturbing. She could still admit he was handsome, and still see some of the same qualities she'd fallen for. But he wasn't what she'd thought he was, wasn't what she wanted or needed. She figured when she shot him, he'd gotten the message loud and clear.

Coulson had remained much the same in his treatment of her. He'd always shut her out of the more secretive stuff, citing clearance. But she was used to it, even if she didn't agree with it. Even if she was a little jealous of May, who he seemed to confide in the most.

They'd grown closer despite the nightmare they currently found themselves in. They'd shared their thoughts and fears and hopes in the guise of offhand conversation. And he'd never been afraid of offering comfort in her darkest moments. Surely he was an odd Director in that capacity. She'd never met Nick Fury in person, but she'd heard the stories. The man was known to be a hardass and secretive and very...alone. He seemed to trust no one but a select few, and even they knew only bits and pieces, never the whole story. The life he lived seemed lonely more than anything.

That Coulson was so concerned with the welfare of his people warmed her heart. Despite his aloof nature recently during some of their conversations, she also shared moments with him of complete levity. He made her laugh with a lame joke and he shared more and more of himself with every passing month. And he held her when she cried, soothing her with words of support. He didn't seem to care that she was different. He didn't seem to care that she was once Daisy. To him, she'd always been Skye, despite the change in her biology. And she needed the reassurance that he would never leave her behind. He called her family and the thought warmed her, just as much as it disgruntled.

May, Simmons, Fitz, Tripp, even Hunter. They were her family. He was so much more. He was the hope that she could overcome this. He didn't offer false platitudes. He didn't lie to her, and he knew the possible consequences of continuing to shelter her. He offered strength when she threatened to falter under the pressure of keeping herself in check.

She loved him for it. For his sweet smile, for the crease that formed between his brows when he concentrated. She loved him for his attachment to Lola and the simple joy he took just from driving her. For the burden he took on himself to ensure their safety. For the times he held her close without reservation, when he assured her that they would figure this out, that he would return to her side no matter what. He meant the team, he would always return to his team, always care for them above himself. But secretly she imagined that he meant her. That his devotion was hers, solely hers.

She dreamed of days when the entire world hunted her down. But Coulson and the team were beside her in every one, fighting by her side as she tore the world apart. She always woke when he died, when the trembling in her limbs spread, when cities shook from her fear and anguish. She always woke when she'd killed them all with her lack of control. Simmons, Fitz, May, Hunter, even Bobbi and Mack. But it was always Coulson who died last. Coulson who reached for her in their last moments, when his words of reassurance were not enough. When the arms he wrapped around her could not shield her from what she'd done. She supposed the only thing she could at least be grateful for was that she died with him. And the morbid thought was not one that brought her any comfort.

She didn't want to die. Just because her life had suddenly become more difficult than she could have ever imagined. She wanted to live to see Fitz regain his confidence, to see Ward finally put down, to see Simmons overcome the fear inspired by Raina's transformation and subsequent carnage. She wanted to see May smile, laugh, be silly and finally let go of the demons that haunted her past. She wanted to see Coulson look at her the way he'd looked at the cellist, with longing. Without the regret and resignation. Because she understood the danger of their world, and she only wanted to help him shoulder the burden. If he was hers, there was no way in hell she was letting him go.

At most, he might feel a fatherly affection for her, a familial love that fueled his protective urges. But Skye wanted more. She wanted the right to call him Phil, like she did in her dreams, in her head, until the name was on the tip of her tongue when she addressed him. She wanted the right to touch him whenever she damn well pleased. To massage his shoulders when he was tense, to hold his hand when they walked, to kiss him until the nerves in her stomach turned into a slow burn and an ache for his hands on her. She wanted to wake up beside him, to hear every doubt he had and reassure him of his own worth, both as a man and a Director.

For now all she had was an affable smile, a rare laugh. She had his protection and trust as an agent, _his _agent. She had his friendship and regard. The rest could wait. Until she was more than a mess of contradictions, until she gained true control. She'd learned one thing from this. Life was short. Too short not to go after what she wanted. She could only hope that Coulson would agree.

**As you could possibly tell, I'm not too pleased with Mack and Bobbi right now, and I was never a huge fan of Ward. I respected the potential relationship between Skye and Ward but now I'm hoping that doesn't happen. Sorry if that offends anyone. :p**

**Thanks for reading. **


	2. Tangents

**I considered putting this as a separate one-shot. It's not really a continuation of Quandary, except in spirit perhaps. I placed it here because I'm considering making this a series of one-shots, much like my story _Stars on Fire_ (An Agent Carter fic). Obviously they would be centered around Coulson and Skye. I like this pairing, despite the admittedly odd aspect of it. But then, I'm weird anyway. This is a tag to 3x09, with a Coulson/Skye spin on things, so this will be AU. Expect spoilers if you haven't seen the episode. **

**I was typically lazy and did not check for mistakes. I'm still having trouble with the Skye to Daisy thing so I might have slipped up. I don't own anything. **

* * *

She reached for his hand, trying to offer some form of comfort. Something in her broke as he slipped his hand away, as Coulson's mouth visibly tightened at the unwelcome touch. Daisy wanted to cry, was already cursing Rosalind for doing something as capricious as gaining even the smallest piece of Coulson's heart…and then dying in his arms. She'd thought that she'd locked away the emotions Coulson inspired when she'd changed her name, changed her identity. Daisy was strong, dependable, and she'd never do something as foolish as fall in love with her Director. Skye had been the weak one, the one who'd adored Coulson from afar, and hoped he'd felt something more for her than as a surrogate father. She'd never needed a father figure, and Cal had provided some closure on the issue with his final actions before they'd erased his memories.

Daisy had thought Lincoln would be the man to stand by her side, and maybe he still could be. The kiss they'd shared had not been without feeling on her part. She truly adored him, felt a kinship with him that she felt with no one else. He was like her and he understood, but was that enough? He was closer to her age than Coulson and perhaps it could be argued that he was more attractive, at least prettier than the wearied director. But Daisy had never grown to care about outer appearances, knowing that people often hid a darker motive behind docile smiles and empty promises. It should have been easy, Lincoln was far more than she deserved. His earnest nature and strong convictions only a couple of his more attractive traits.

She'd fallen into a tangent thought that distracted her from Coulson's probing questions, about Ward of all people. She'd long gotten over any attachment she'd felt for the man, and yet Coulson's tone was accusatory at best, condemning at worst. She did her best to answer his questions in an even tone, hoping he'd give up this vendetta against Ward before it had a chance to blow up in their faces. It was a lonely and desperate path Coulson seemed ready to walk. Ward had hurt them all, and through it all he'd been the one to keep his head and guide them with open eyes. Yes, Hunter had failed in his attempt to take out Ward, had disappointed Coulson in more ways than one, but Coulson had seemed to forgive the man despite his reckless actions. Now Daisy could see that Coulson was blinded by his grief at Rosalind's death.

They'd all wondered how close the pair had gotten, how far Coulson had been compromised. This seemed a confirmation of how deep his feelings had grown, and so quickly. It pained Daisy that he'd let his guard down, had shared greater intimacies with a woman who'd been entirely clueless about her own participation in HYDRA's plans, than with his own team, with _her_. She could pretend all she wanted that she'd moved on, that her silly infatuation with the man had faded, but the itch under her skin declared otherwise. The feelings of jealousy and regret warred within her. Was she not old enough? Not experienced enough? Not broken enough for him? She could not understand why he would turn to a woman who they hadn't even been sure they could trust until very recently. And yet, if Mack was to be believed, Coulson had slept with Rosalind even then. And Daisy had yet to have the information confirmed either way, not that anyone would think that it was any of her business.

But she loved him. And it was agony to watch him hurting, lashing out at his team over the death of this woman that Daisy hadn't trusted even when her death had ultimately proven her loyalty.

When Coulson's veiled accusations were finally too much to handle Daisy stood from her seat, unwilling and unable to deal with him right then. He seemed surprised by her sudden departure, his voice stern as he ordered her to return to her seat. But Daisy could not listen. He was not the director right now and he was not thinking clearly.

She was happy not to run into anyone on the way to her room, a space barely larger than a broom closet. The small space had once seemed suffocating, now it felt like a cocoon that could shelter her from the harsh realities of their world. She cried and could not even explain to herself why the tears would not stop. It was in large part caused by Coulson, by the heart she was sure was slowly crumbling in her chest. But it was also because of missed opportunities, of the normal life she could have led if her mother had not gone crazy and dragged her father along with her. It was because she hadn't allowed herself to cry for a father that had been taken from her. She even shed tears for the abrasive (at least to her) Rosalind Price, a woman who'd clearly cared deeply for Coulson even when it created a conflict professionally. Daisy cried for the woman brave enough to make her feelings known.

There was a knock at her door but she refused to answer, certain that Coulson had sent Lincoln or May or even Bobbi to find out what was wrong. He was probably already on to the next pseudo-interrogation, still eagerly gathering any last dregs of knowledge he could on the illusive Grant Ward. The knock sounded again and Daisy wiped the tears from her face, a huff of annoyance escaping at the thought that she had no privacy, not even in her own room.

"I'm not answering the door." She insisted stubbornly, hoping that whoever was knocking would just leave.

"I came to apologize." Daisy stilled at the sound of Coulson's voice.

"You don't need to apologize," she offered, knowing that she might act similarly under the same circumstances. The thought of Coulson dying was unfathomable to her, and she could still be grateful at least that he was still alive.

"Can you open the door?" Coulson's typical light tone returned, even if it was forced. "I don't particularly enjoy talking to it."

Daisy sighed, certain she was going to regret it as she opened the door with a few pressed buttons. She was greeted by Coulson's tentative smile, his eyes holding an apology she wasn't sure she was ready to accept.

"Hi." His smile dimmed at the sight of her tear-stained face.

"Coulson, you don't need to apologize. It's fine. I'm a big girl."

Coulson coughed, his fingers adjusting the glove that hid his prosthetic hand in a nervous habit he'd developed recently. "Yes, well, I'm clearly not handling this as well as I could."

"Clearly," Daisy deadpanned, her expression carefully blank.

Coulson looked around. "Can I come in? I don't want to have this conversation out here."

"What conversation? You've said your piece." But she moved out of the way, stilling as he brushed past her into the cramped quarters. For lack of a better place to sit, he settled carefully on her bunk.

Daisy closed and locked the door, making certain that their conversation would remain unheard and unrecorded. Not that she imagined anything but a blundering apology would happen. But she really didn't need the team to be sticking their noses in her business more than they already did. Not she didn't love them for it, and their concern. She sat beside him, her thigh pressed against his. She ignored the way he tensed at her proximity and stole one selfish moment for herself. He smelled like Irish Spring, the scent tickling her nose.

"So?" She tilted her head in query, willing Coulson to speak.

"I wanted to apologize for the way I've been acting since…since Ros' death." His hand clenched, Daisy fine-tuned to the miniscule vibrations that indicated that he was squeezing too hard, likely to crack his hand despite its durable build.

She pushed away the dismay at Coulson's familiar use of her name, when he couldn't even remember to call her Daisy sometimes. Daisy reached for his hand, pulling apart his fingers with no resistance on his part, smoothing his hand flat and lingering on the feel of the leather glove that hid the metal underneath. It wasn't like he could feel her touch, his eyes pressed firmly closed as he took a ragged breath.

"You're entitled," she finally offered, "She meant something to you. No one is blaming you for the way you're reacting." At least she was trying hard not to. Trying to be the better woman, to let go of the resentment.

"She was starting to," Coulson admitted. "But you've been here for me for longer than I've deserved." Before Daisy could get her hopes up, Coulson continued. "All of you mean so much to me, even if it remains unsaid."

"Well, you're saying it now."

Coulson smiled. "So I am. I hope you understand that this isn't just about Rosalind. She is the catalyst, I won't deny that." He sighed. "This is about me, about the mistakes I've made with Ward. I should've killed him when I had the chance."

Daisy leaned into him, hoping another offer of comfort wouldn't be rejected. "This isn't your fault, Phil. Ward is twisted, sick. Rosalind knew the risks as well as anyone."

"Ward is my responsibility no matter what you say." Coulson pressed a finger to her lips before she could voice any objections. Daisy remained silent, struck by the feel of his bare finger pressed to her lips. "I will take him down this time. _Me_, Daisy. Not Hunter, not Bobbi, not May."

She nodded, understanding but frustrated at the burden he'd placed solely on his own shoulders. "Maybe he is, but we're here to support you. I'm here for you, no matter how much you try to push me away. You've given me so much more than I can ever repay, but I don't stay because of that. You have to know that." Perhaps her debt to him had long been paid, perhaps he saw no debt at all, but Daisy felt gratitude nonetheless. He'd broadened her world, and stolen her heart in the process.

She searched his face, hoping to convey how much he meant to her without actually admitting she was in love with him. It was difficult enough for him right now, losing a woman he'd taken as a lover, without Daisy pushing her feelings on him.

Coulson sighed, tucking stray hair behind her ears tenderly. Daisy's breath caught, uncertain what his expression was telling her. "Daisy…"

There was a knock at the door, interrupting whatever he'd been about to say. She jumped, Coulson smiling at her skittishness. He ruffled her hair playfully, reestablishing the boundaries that had nearly been crossed. Though Daisy could not decide in what way.

"That will be Hunter." Coulson stood, nearly knocking his head on the top of her bunk. "I asked him to meet me on the lower deck. Guess he's getting impatient."

Daisy smiled shakily, not as quick to return to the nonchalance that Coulson displayed. When he opened the door, Hunter homed in on her with a critical eye. His eyebrow raised at whatever he saw, but she stuck her tongue out at him childishly. He smirked before addressing Coulson.

"Ready to go? I thought we were in a hurry." The man was clearly pumped, bouncing impatiently on his toes, eager at another chance to take on Ward.

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

Hunter nodded, already leaving. Coulson turned back to Daisy and offered one last smile. "Thank you Daisy, for helping me gain perspective."

She nodded, gnawing her lip in worry. "Just…be careful. And please come home."

Coulson's eyebrow's raised in surprise at the plaintive plea. "Of course. I'll be back before you know it."

Daisy watched him, wanting to stop him from leaving. She didn't have a good feeling about this. Nothing that Ward was involved with ever went according to plan. But Coulson had promised to return. She would cling to that promise, to the memory of his fingers touching her face with such reverence. It was all she had.

**Thanks for reading. Feel free to let me know what you think. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**I wrote this shortly after the midseason finale aired, but I felt it was too OOC. I'm posting it (a day) before AoS returns because I'll probably get more ideas eventually. Might as well see where these plot bunnies lead.**

**Due to a few very aggressive negative reviews (on other stories), I'm now deleting flames. Constructive criticism is still appreciated. **

* * *

"I killed him." Coulson sighed heavily, burdened by equal amounts of relief and guilt. "And I can't regret it, not after what he did to Fitz and Simmons, after everything he's done to the team…to Ros."

Daisy swallowed, wondering not for the first time if she was equipped to deal with Coulson's issues. Andrew was obviously gone, but perhaps May? She shook those thoughts away angrily. He was finally opening up to her, and she was too busy stressing to realize that he didn't need a therapist right now, he needed a friend.

"That's not what's bothering you," she suggested carefully. "We all know Ward needed to die. He was beyond redemption."

"I…I didn't enjoy it," Coulson began, "But I took my time, I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to understand that I was the one who was killing him. I wanted him to realize that he was going to die, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He was helpless, and in those last seconds, I was happy that he knew it."

Daisy flinched, seeing the moment clearly in her mind. Fitz had briefly explained what had happened, but he'd been so shell-shocked by the entire experience that he hadn't gone into much depth. It was the haunted look in his eyes that said what he couldn't, the way he watched Coulson with wariness, even as he thanked him for saving him.

She thought of dozen different things she could say at that moment, yet none of them seemed right. She voiced the thought that was most prevalent, the word escaping her mouth before she realized.

"Good." Coulson flinched, eyeing her as if she'd gone crazy. And maybe she had, just a little, as she glared at Coulson sternly. "He deserved to die, he deserved to know that he was going to be left there on that planet, all alone. He killed Rosalind, he tried to kill all of us at one point or other, he scarred Fitz for life. He deserved everything he got. And I'm only sorry that I hadn't been there to see the expression on his face."

"Daisy…" Coulson rubbed a hand over his face in exasperated amusement. She just looked so damn fierce in that moment, ready to go to war with him over his guilt. Despite the lingering sense that he'd handled the situation completely wrong, he could feel his guilt fading at her righteous anger. While he'd never fully comprehended her relationship with Ward, Coulson had understood that there _had_ been a relationship despite Daisy's objections.

Only she would know how deeply her feelings for Ward ran, but Coulson had been a little concerned that she might resent him for killing Ward so coldly. She'd made it clear that she now felt nothing for Ward beyond contempt, and he had to believe her. But it had taken him months to put thoughts of the cellist and what could have been far behind him. She'd represented a chance at happiness for a tired old man, had made him smile, laugh, had made him hope for some chance at normality. After her he'd known he would never have a chance at the white picket normality that other Agents had managed to cultivate. It had only been Rosalind who'd sparked something like hope once again. She knew the dangers of his life, and he would never have had to hide anything from her. But clearly he would remain alone to his dying day. This life was dangerous, secretive, and he could never ask anyone to expose themselves to the level of danger being with him would present. Always a target on his back, barely a second to himself, always lonely in the strictest sense despite the people he surrounded himself with.

He was interrupted from his depressing thoughts when Daisy laid her hand on his shoulder, squeezing to gain his attention. "Coulson, I won't say every decision you've made was the best one. But this decision in particular, no matter what emotional turmoil influenced it, was the best one. Ward needed to die."

He tried to smile at her. "Are you saying I should make rash, emotional decisions more often?"

Daisy rolled her eyes, surprising him as she moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder and wrapping an arm loosely around him. It was then that the position they were in finally hit him. He'd come to her for something – validation, comfort, support, absolution, he wasn't sure- but perhaps he shouldn't have invaded her personal space so readily. The top bunk in the small space remained empty, would remain so until or if they ever got another crew member. Daisy had the space to herself, had demanded it, and he'd agreed. And yet it felt a little too intimate to be sitting beside her on the lower bunk, the blankets mussed because even as an Agent she never put in the effort to make the bed. May would be appalled at the clothes that lie on the floor, her laptop sitting open on the unmade bed, an open bag of chips resting beside it. He'd interrupted whatever she'd been doing on the laptop, and he couldn't help but feel grateful that she dropped whatever she'd been doing to pat the bed gently in invitation. He might have gone to May with his burden of guilt, but she was still hurting over the latest escape of Andrew and his role in the deaths of the Inhumans. He didn't think he was strong enough to be her shoulder to lean on, if she'd even let him be such a thing. May was strong, stubborn and refused to show an ounce of weakness even to him. It had seemed logical to come here, to see Daisy after everything was said and done, when being alone for any moment longer left him the chance to torment himself with the image of Ward's lifeless eyes, the strange satisfaction he'd felt at ending him.

Perhaps it was because of the conversation they'd had before he'd left to kill Ward, the strange sense of familiarity and comfort he'd felt in her presence. The moment that had been broken between them with Hunter's impatience. He still wasn't sure what to make of the expression on Daisy's face as he'd tucked the hair carefully behind her ears. It was inappropriate and yet he felt that his action had been welcome, her pupils blown with…he was afraid to name what he'd seen in her eyes. It was more than concern or acceptance, more than affection and he was crazy if he thought that Daisy thought of him as anything other than a father figure. Still, he could sit here and listen to her quiet exhales forever, basked in the contentment he took from her body pressed against his. She trusted him, and he didn't deserve it, but he hoped he would never do anything to break that trust again. He'd already lost her trust more than once, and still she returned to his side when he needed her, felt no qualms about offering him comfort. He shivered as her fingers found the sliver of skin exposed between his plain shirt and jeans, stroking idly without seeming to realize it.

He should get up, Coulson knew this. This was fast becoming a situation he couldn't extricate himself from without a serious amount of awkwardness. But he breathed in Daisy's scent, her hair tickling his nose as he turned his face towards her. He wanted to kiss her hair, wanted to return the loose embrace she had him wrapped in. He felt a stirring of want, and immediately hated himself for it. Rosalind was barely cold and already his treacherous body had moved on. And Daisy was so far off limits that he wanted to vomit at his own reaction to her proximity. He moved to stand and knew he wasn't imagining when Daisy's hold tightened, her warm fingers pressing briefly into his skin in resistance.

"I should get out of your hair," Coulson offered with a weak smile, ignoring Daisy's fallen expression. "I'm sure you had better plans than listening to your old director whine."

"You're not old," Daisy replied automatically, her cheeks flushing at his raised eyebrow and confirming his fears.

"Old enough to be your father." Coulson reprimanded gently, eager to stop whatever crush she seemed to be developing before it became something more, no matter the complicating emotions he was beginning to feel for her.

He watched Daisy's eyes widening at his tone, her chin jutting forward in defiance. "You're not my father _Phil_, no matter how much you try to convince yourself that you see me as a daughter."

"No," he admitted. "I don't see you as a daughter. Maybe I'd convinced myself I did, but…" He'd be pretty fucked up to try and place her in that category when he was attracted to her. He could admit that at least.

Daisy's eyebrow rose in question. "But?"

"You're too young." Coulson said firmly. "And I'm too broken, too tired."

"You're _not _broken Phil. And I'm not a child."

"I slept with Rosalind less than a week ago." He said harshly, gaining the reaction he was aiming for as she visibly flinched, dropping her eyes to her clenched fists.

"I'm aware of that," she finally said, and when she looked up he was surprised at the determination in her eyes. "I don't want to replace her. When you're with me, I want you to be _with_ me, not seeing a dead woman's face overlying mine."

Coulson was shocked by her candid admission that she wanted him. He also wasted a moment lost in the image of Daisy and him together. He could not deny that she was one of the loveliest woman he'd ever met, her S.H.I.E.L.D. training only toning her lithe body and subtly enhancing the curves that were already there.

"What about Lincoln?" he challenged her. He was aware of the hesitant steps the pair had taken towards a relationship. He hadn't realized until just this moment that he was jealous of the man, though he could not argue that the man would be far more suited to her than he ever would be.

Daisy's expression flickered with guilt but her eyes hardened. "I never should have started anything with him. I didn't think you'd feel anything for me, that there would ever be a chance that you'd see me as something more than a surrogate daughter."

Coulson scowled, gesturing between them. "There is nothing between us, we can never be anything more than this Daisy." He turned to leave, pausing to look over his shoulder. "I won't tell Lincoln about this conversation."

He felt the quiver of the plane, signaling that her abilities were becoming unstable. Alarms sounded beyond the door and he turned to reprimand Daisy, not expecting her proximity as she pressed herself against him.

"I'm sorry Phil." She pressed her mouth to his, demanding a response from him.

Coulson barely managed not to lose his head, pushing her away desperately. "_Daisy_! I've told you that I don't want this."

Daisy backed away as if struck, staring at him with a miserable expression as the plane shook once again. "Coulson, I never meant…I'm so sorry." She looked on the verge of tears, self-recrimination clear in her eyes as she wrapped her arms protectively around herself.

He'd given her so much, had dropped his guard for her. He'd come to her looking for a friend and she'd repaid him by throwing herself at him. Daisy was embarrassed at her behavior, but even more than that, she was disgusted with herself. Coulson was right. The woman he'd clearly cared for had died only a couple days ago, and she'd been stringing along Lincoln for weeks, unfairly giving him the idea that she wanted him. And some part of her did, but she wanted Coulson more, so much that she dreamed of him, acted foolishly, acted stupid. She wanted to throw up.

"I'm sorry Coulson. I'll pack my things first thing. You can drop- "

"No." Coulson interrupted, his tone firm. "Daisy, we won't be dropping you anywhere. You haven't done anything wrong," _Yet_, offered his brain. "You weren't thinking clearly," he consoled her. "Whatever you're feeling right now will pass. It's only natural that you would look up to me."

"I'm in love with you." Daisy offered, tears leaking from her eyes. "You don't think I've tried to forget you? You don't think I've tried to move on? I've told you Coulson, I'm not a child. This isn't some stupid crush that will fade away. I _love you_." She laughed bitterly. "and believe me, it sucks."

Coulson's heart clenched at the broken expression on her face, the abject misery that encompassed her features. She wasn't lying to him. He wanted to comfort her, but he couldn't. He could only offer her the truth. "I don't love you," he admitted.

Daisy smiled in defeat. "I know, Coulson."

He should have left it at that, should have left her to nurse her broken heart in peace, but he hated the pain she was feeling, every part of him twisting at the hurt he'd caused her. He only wanted to help her, and he'd screwed everything up so royally.

"I want you," he admitted further. "And I hate myself for it." At her startled expression he took a step closer, cursing his foolishness as her breathing became labored at his approach. "I told Rosalind that I wanted you. She wasn't surprised."

"You…what?"

"She told me that I should be careful not to play with your feelings. She told me you cared for me too much." Coulson smirked. "I laughed in her face. I think she always knew that our time together was limited, with or without Ward's interference."

"What are you saying Phil?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "I only know that I don't deserve you." Daisy opened her mouth to object but he placed a hand over her mouth to silence her. "I don't Daisy. But I'm too tired to fight the both of us. I don't love you…" he paused at Daisy's flinch. "But I think I could." So easily. He was halfway there already, staring into her dark eyes, he felt ridiculously calm and resigned.

He pulled his hand away from her mouth, expecting a tongue lashing, but Daisy seemed too dumbfounded. "You could?"

He smiled. "I think I've known about your feelings for months. It's changed my perspective of you, slowly. Rosalind was…a wonderful, beautiful, understanding…distraction and she was aware of it. I can't tell you what it must have felt like to her, despite all her reassurances that what we had meant nothing. I deserved her hate, and I was very lucky to have her affectionate regard and esteem instead. She respected me even when we were at odds with each other, even when I wished she was someone else."

"Phil." Daisy didn't know what to say. What he was saying was some tragic twist on what she'd wanted to hear for months.

"I need time Daisy. So do you." He raised a hand to stall the objection she was ready to voice. "To put it simply, I'm not ready. And you need to really consider what a relationship between us would mean." He smiled softly at the stubborn tilt of her chin. "The age difference, the reactions of our team, the rules we'd be bending, or breaking entirely. Is what you feel for me worth it? Think about it Daisy, and I'll let you know the moment I've figured things out."

Daisy frowned but nodded once in agreement. "Okay." As Coulson turned to leave, she placed a hand on his arm to stall him. He raised an eyebrow in question at her fierce expression. "You're worth it," Daisy affirmed. "I get that you need time, but I wanted you to know that. To me, you are worth more than you realize."

Coulson smiled at her certainty, leaving her room with many things to consider. Whatever complications arose from this encounter, he felt better for it. She'd eased his concerns over Ward and he had at least one member of his team on his side despite his mistakes. Now, he had a lot of damage control ahead of him.

**Thanks for reading. :)**


End file.
